Sunshower Drabbles
by fanii
Summary: A collection of drabbles, some based on songs, some based on thoughts, some based on pure romance. Zutara
1. La Vie En Rose

**La Vie En Rose**

Where he sees silk ruined by the rain she sees crops made bountiful. He despises her for being so damn optimistic, and she takes it as a compliment.

When he grumbles about the tedious paperwork, she delights in having such a direct role in the government of so many people. He calls her manipulating, she takes it as his way of saying 'thank you.'

He curses her for leaving so soon, and she smiles, thanking him for her time there.

When he's broken, she's fixing.


	2. Fences

**Fences**

_And it's obvious that you're dying… But you'll go out in style._

And in the midst of it all, he found it in himself (or maybe learned it from _her_) to fight with pride. He fought physically and inside of himself, fought for the upper hand and fought for control.

Because he was damned if he was going down without a fight.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys!! Keep em coming!!


	3. All The Way Up

**A/N: Hey guys! There're plenty of more drabbles that I've already written, all for your Zutara random cravings :) Please take a second and hit me up with a review, I appreciate the feedback!! **

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**I know you're here. So while you ARE here, just tell me what you think of these drabbles, it'll mean a lot :)**

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**All the Way Up**

_It's a ride that takes you all the way up, and all the way down._

He had always hated flying.

He had hated it when he did it by himself, with his parents as a child, and he hated it now, even though he was surrounded by people considerably more welcoming.

But, he thought as he tightened his grip to the side of the saddle, this is a million times better than traveling safely close to the ground.

There was something about riding with the rest of them, the wind in their hair, their jokes making him laugh, their goals coinciding, that made him feel he was all the way up.

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**A/N: I am officially now taking your requests :)**


	4. Your ExLover Is Dead

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**Your Ex-Lover Is Dead**

_When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire._

He saw her, not as he remembered. In fact, it had taken several repetitions of her name for the memories to arise, and with them, the pain. There was pain and hurt in knowing she didn't belong to him anymore, in making a conscious effort to stay away from her and closer to his newly formed family.  
But there was comfort in seeing the different light in her eyes, in seeing the manner of her movements transformed. The girl he had fallen in love with was no longer there, and the gods had given him the blessing of leaving no remnants of her behind.

It didn't hurt so much, because he knew that his ex-lover was dead.


	5. Apologize

**A/N: Hello! :) Yes, I am still here! Please drop a review on your way out!**

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**Apologize**

She stares him down, and this, he realizes, is the saturated version of the accusatory glances she would give him if he forgot to pack a blanket, or set something on fire accidentally.  
He knows he can always say he's sorry, jokingly offer to be her slave, do whatever she wants for a week.  
But she knows that she has to turn him away, tell him this is something he can't fix, this is something she'll never forgive him for. And as she says it, she feels it come out differently.

It's different, because this time she means it.


	6. The Technicolor Phase

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you to all who reviewed, and please take the time to give me some feedback! Enjoy!**

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**The Technicolor Phase**

_If you cut me I suppose I would bleed the colors of the evening stars…_

Zuko knew colors had always existed. He had never paid much attention to his uncle's silly renditions of colors being thrown into existence when the Gods became the deities they are now. He never thought that La had created blue, or Agni red, or that when the two clashed, all sorts of hues were created, depending on the emotions of the Gods.

But when he saw her smile, her blue eyes shining just as much as her white teeth, her tan skin glowing, her brown hair shimmering, he believed in every fairytale he had ever been told.


	7. How to Save a Life

**A/N: Hey guys! I worked really hard on this one, and it still seems pretty patchy, so please give me feedback!**

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**How To Save A Life**

_And I would have stayed up with you all night… had I known how to save a life._

Suddenly he couldn't stand it. Zuko rose from the dirt floor of the tent, dusting the torn fabric of his pants as he went, and made to exit. He could feel Katara's eyes on him, when they really should've been on Aang, focusing on the incredibly large healing job she had to do. He wanted to tell her why he had to leave, but he knew she wouldn't understand…

Not only would she not understand, but how would _he _even begin to explain it? How was he supposed to explain to her that it wasn't in his nature to heal? That he didn't know how to help in matters such as these because he'd been raised to attack? To _kill_?

She wouldn't understand, he thought as he parted the tent's makeshift curtains, because she grew up differently. She started fighting this war on the other team's side, never saw the battles from the enemy's point of view.

With a heavy sigh, Zuko headed for the deeper part of the forest, grateful for the fact that their camping ground was the only clear piece of earth for at least twenty miles all around. The last thing he wanted was to be found. He walked for what seemed like hours, and could have easily been minutes. Every step he took was agony, a reminder of his cowardice and uselessness. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation couldn't handle the healing session of a twelve-year old airbender? Disgraceful.

But, he reasoned, this shameful escape was at least suffered in solitude. Whereas if he had stayed at the tent, he was certain he wouldn't have been able to bear the others glancing at him occasionally as if to remind him that they too were aware that he wasn't helping any. At least Sokka held Katara's sponges and water, and Toph was purifying the water by bending any earth or metals out of it… but what could he do? Warm up the water? Burn the wounds shut? Get in the way?

Water was clean, he thought, water was fresh and pure and full of life. Fire was, he had been taught since childhood, power and fear and strength. He had grown up hearing idolized stories of Fire Nation troops raiding poor, weak villages, burning buildings down and killing the ignorant peasants who interfered with their proceedings. He had admired these men when he was a young boy, before his uncle had had much contact with him, had wished that one day he too would return home with victory and honor and glory.

Katara had grown up resenting the Fire Nation for killing her mother, then for forcing her father away, hunting her friends, destroying the world. She had heard the same stories he had as a child, only in the Water Tribes they were no doubt horror stories.

Dimly, Zuko noted that the sun had set. Quite a while ago, based on the position of the moon. He had reached as clear a space as he was going to find, and he walked over to the largest tree around. He rested his back against the trunk, and slid to the ground. He had not the faintest idea where in Agni's name he was, and could not muster the energy to care.

He heard the rustle of disturbed leaves behind him, and leapt from the ground, flames already poised at the tips of his fingers. He stood in the middle of the small clearing, which was barely wide enough for him to assume a fighting stance, and blew a breath into the fire in his hands. The flames rose, illuminating the space around him.

The stranger turned out not only to be harmless, but not a stranger at all.

Katara approached him, hands up to shield her eyes against the bright flames in his hands.

"Hey."

"Hi," he said, relaxing his stance and dimming the fire.

She walked closer and sat down in the spot he had occupied not long ago, patting the spot next to her invitingly. He obliged, resting his arms on his knees and his head on the trunk behind him. She was alarmingly close to him, and he could smell her skin and her hair. Her robes were stained with blood, and he fought the urge to wince. Her hands were spotted with dried blood, and there was still sweat on her brow.

"Why are you out here?" she asked.

"Same reason you are."

She turned to look at him, and her eyes glowed slightly under the moonlight that wove among the leaves of the tree above them. He stared back, silently hoping her healing job had left her too exhausted to be perceptive. But when he met her gaze her eyes weren't searching, they were pleading. Her face was full of exhaustion, and he could see tears building at the corners of her eyes. A small, weak smile spread across her lips.

"I doubt that," she said, her voice wavering.

And before he knew it his arm was around her, and her face was in his chest. She seemed to shrink in size, became a small girl in his arms, shaking and crying. He hardly needed to ask what had gone wrong, because it wasn't even important. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now that she was coming undone in his arms. He had no idea what had made him pull her to his chest in the first place, seeing as they had never been particularly close.

He thought about pushing her away, gently nudging her to her feet and telling her to go get some sleep. This thought seemed barbaric for some reason. It made him feel ashamed for even thinking it, and made his arms tighten around her. Agni only knew how it had gotten to this, to Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation cradling Katara of the Southern Water Tribe in his arms after she had healed the last airbender left in the world. It was insane, irrational, completely deranged.

But it was also right.

If he had been slightly more philosophical at that moment, he might have noticed that the curve of her shoulder fell perfectly against the dent in his collarbone, and her head rested comfortably under his chin. Her body was cold enough to refresh him, and his was warm enough to keep her comfortable.

It was, he would later realize, a balance of life. Two extremes coming together to create middle ground. And maybe he didn't have the power to fly people to safety, or build stone shelters for them, and much less use water to heal their wounds. But he had the power to heal a healer.


	8. Conspiracy

**A/N: Hey guys! :) I got some pretty positive feedback for the last chapter! I know this is one of my shorter ones, but it takes me longer to write chapters like the previous one. More are on their way, but chapters like these are the short spurts of inspiration I get :) Enjoy!**

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**Conspiracy**

_Please speak softly, for they will hear us… and they'll find out why we don't trust them…_

The whisper of her lips on his, the brush of her hand through their sleeves, the hushed laughter and whispers…. It was all a mosaic of wonderful things that belonged to him, were all his to enjoy, and hers to give.

And when she kissed his scar for the first time, and kissed his lips to keep him from backing away, it was as if they had started their own conspiracy against an entirely different enemy.


	9. The Importance of Being Iroh

**The Importance of being Iroh**

"I love her, Uncle."

Iroh lifted his gaze from his plate, and instead of directing it towards his nephew, looked to the far right side of the table. The dining room was flooded with guests from all over the world, political ambassadors and power-hungry socialites in search of the next step to climb on the social ladder. He himself had spent most of the night doing Zuko's job, mingling and hosting the party that was honoring the Fire Lord's twenty-fifth birthday. Not that he minded, really, he was better suited for the role of host than his nephew was, but this was pushing it. It wasn't enough that Zuko wanted to skip all of the social aspects of his own birthday, he wanted to brood and complain in between courses, too?

As could be expected (Zuko hardly ever went off-book, as far as his behavior went) the seat that seemed to have anchored Zuko's gaze for the past hour was the one occupied by the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador. A strange young girl, one could hear in the halls of the palace, never married, the poor thing…. Became too grotesquely mannish for anyone to approach her, I suppose…. War hero? Spent all this time with the Avatar and you're telling me she couldn't even get a proposal out of him?

Iroh had silenced these vicious gossips many times, often to give way to the rumors starring his own temper, his erratic and eccentric behavior, sometimes even his downward spiral into insanity. _I must be going senile_, he thought to himself, realizing that he had never stopped the rumors for either Katara's or his own benefit.

He had done it for Zuko.

After all, what kind of Fire Lord would make it his top priority to stop petty gossip from spreading? And not only that, but give special consideration to those rumors that concerned Katara, the beautiful and quite possibly perpetually single waterbender? Iroh had enough to worry about with Zuko's intermittent bouts of emotional instability, as he liked to call it, without having to keep his nephew out of disputes such as those that often sprouted wherever a nasty rumor was heard. If it had been Katara he had to think about, the gossip would've long since become an irrelevant issue in his life. She wouldn't care, he thought, if a crowd of "useless, shallow, idle, spineless, untalented, nasty women," decided to spend a few minutes of their endless hours of free time making up stories about her.

No, it was definitely not for Katara's benefit that Iroh took the time to shove a handful of lychee nuts in these women's mouths (metaphorically, of course… no lychee nuts should ever go to such a lamentable waste).

At that moment, as if she could hear her name being mentioned a few times in Iroh's thoughts (and Agni knows how many in Zuko's), Katara turned in her seat and shot a radiant smile at Iroh. He returned it immediately, lifting his teacup and cocking his head as if saying _Might as well enjoy!_

She laughed, but the sound of it was lost in the throes of many, many other voices speaking all at the same time, as if their owners were intentionally attempting to silence her, envious of her voice. She raised her cup as well, and sealed her lips in a small, reverent smile that was completely thwarted by the giddy glint in her eyes.

Iroh could feel his nephew's eyes burning (no pun intended) a hole through the side of his face as he had this moment of communication with the girl he was so desperately "in love" with. He turned and stared back, smiling widely at the angry birthday boy in front of him.

"Uncle," he seethed, "did you not hear me? I said I lov-"

"I heard you, Zuko," Iroh replied, holding his right sleeve as he poured more tea into his cup. This was going to be a long night.

"Then why won't you say anything?" Zuko's voice sounded painfully childish, like the vice of a child who has just now decided he wants to grow up to be the Avatar, and is planning his schedule for learning each element, "I mean, when should I tell her?"

Iroh looked up from his tea mid-sip, "You mean to tell her?"

"Of course I do."

Iroh chuckled, "My dear nephew, need we go through this again?

Zuko's back almost cracked, going from relaxed to rod-straight in one second, "What are you insinuating, Uncle?"

Iroh knew this stare. It was the stare that diplomats got when their proposals were rejected, the stares that many a politician's daughters had encountered when they sought for the Fire Lord to court them. It was a stare of denial and icy indifference. It was a stare that let the recipient know Zuko had already made up his mind. He would hear them out, but it would all amount to nothing. He was determined, Iroh saw, to ruin the evening with an impromptu declaration of love.

Iroh also knew the proper course of action in the event of this stare. Retreat.

"Nothing at all, Zuko," he said, "I believe it to be a most wonderful idea."

Zuko looked ready to defend his decision against inexistent opposition, when an airy voice sounded behind him, "Zuko, a moment?"

Zuko turned his head at a speed that made his neck ache, and found Katara, clad in the finest ice blue silk in the Fire Nation, beckoning him towards the door. He stood immediately, tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and led the way to the courtyard.

Iroh stared after them, and gave Katara a shameless wink when she turned to smile in gratitude. He had done his part of the job, and the rest was up to Katara.


	10. Lose My Head

**Lose My Head**

_But I don't need my conscience when I lose my head, I've got all of my excuses lying in your bed…_

Katara's back was slammed against the bronze door, knocking the breath out of her. Before she could regain it, his lips were on hers, his hands on her hips, hers around his neck. There was a remarkable sharpness to every sensation when Zuko was involved, the type that was never there when she spent time with Aang. Zuko's lips dragged to her neck, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. How they had gotten to this point, she was unable to remember.

She was very aware, even though she had not seen this door before in her life, that the embellishments digging into her back were those on the door to Zuko's bedroom. The bedroom he would soon be sharing with Mai, the bedroom in which she was most certainly unwelcome.

Zuko's mouth ventured to her collarbone, his destination made even more clear by the way his hand began or rise over her ribs. She grabbed his hair, pulling his face up to hers. His gaze almost sent her to the ground, the way the molten amber was pouring want and love into her cool stare. He was as breathless as she was.

She tried to speak with her eyes, tried to remind him of his fiancee, who slept but two rooms down the hall. A part of her wanted him to be the one to end it, to apologize for his lapse in control and send her to her room. This part of her was certain that if it were up to her, they would never stop.

His eyes were full of devotion, full of desire and love and passion that was all Zuko. At that moment, as Zuko's lips crashed into her own, she realized Toph might've been right after all. Maybe Zuko _had _ been in love with her all this time. Maybe she was his only hope for happiness.

She unwound her hands from his neck, and tried to focus on opening the door rather than the way his tongue was tracing her lower lip. The door gave way and they stumbled back, his hands tightening on her to keep her from falling to the ground. He set her on her feet and shut the door, clicked the lock, and gave her a look that weakened her knees.

_There's gotta be a million things that could be said, But I don't go for talking when I lose my head…._


	11. The Universe

**The Universe**

No, no, no.

"Why can't we make a truce?"

"Because, Zuko! Water and Fire just don't mix! Like ever!"

"Yes they do!"

"Name one instance."

"Rain! And the Sun!"

"…."

"You know, sunshowers!"

"Not only are you a firebender, you're a moron."

"You're ignorant! Sunshowers happen all the time in the Fire Nation!"

"Of course they do, Zuko. In the South Pole we have flaming icebergs. Happens all the time."

"They do!"

"The icebergs?"

"No, idiot! The sunshowers!"

"No. They don't."

And just then, the clouds above her head dissipated and a light drizzle of rain poured on their heads.

The Universe just _loved_ to prove her wrong.

"Told you."


	12. Not Gonna Get Us

**Not Gonna Get Us**

The wind whipped through her hair angrily, and her robes billowed behind her. The war balloon was extremely small, even though they had not packed enough supplies to last them even a week. Zuko was tending to the fire in the middle of the balloon's deck, so to speak, and she turned to look down at the spot where the Fire Nation Palace had disappeared beneath them. She suddenly thought of the months she and Zuko had spent planning, plotting their escape from the Fire Nation. It was all stupid, she realized, there was no way they could avoid everyone forever. If there was one thing she had learned from her travels during the war was that the world wasn't at all as big as it appeared.

Zuko had reassured her the entire time they packed. He had left a note requesting that Iroh take his place only temporarily. She had argued against this, knowing what the "temporarily" meant. It meant they would return, and that would mean humiliation for the both of them. Not only had Zuko presented her to the entire Fire Nation Royal Court and had her rejected, they had specifically requested he marry one of the nobles's daughters, as was customary. This plan was more flawed than it was efficient, and she could only see destruction at the end of the tunnel.

This plan… this plan was insane, she thought, this plan to marry secretively and return to the Fire Nation with a legit wife and a consummated marriage…. There was nothing she could think of that would make her happier than to be bound to Zuko for the rest of her life, but was it worth sacrificing his home? His people's respect for him? His traditions?

He seemed to think so, but that did little to comfort her. When she had suggested they change the politicians's minds, she had been thinking more along the lines of positive reinforcement, not a forceful compliance…

Zuko was now at her side, his arm around her, his lips on her mouth.

"They're not gonna get us," he said softly.

"A part of me's wishing they will."

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**A/N: Ok, guys! Keep the reviews coming, I love them! I also love requests :) Up next is a request from Downward Spiral 1: Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace**


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